random extra
by Annamia
Summary: two parts to play. two representatives of species hostile to each other. one author. one story. joyous indeed. crack fic, all dialog, written when bored. you have been warned.


_so i know we haven't posted anything in ages, and we're all really sorry. but school is hell, and we just don't have time. but, just to prove to you that we haven't forgotten you completely, here's a conversation i had with characters from the novel-length fanfic i'm working on. enjoy, and i'd love to know if you can guess the fandom. (though, knowing us, that's not hard...)  
--kyra

* * *

_Me: all right guys. We're stuck, and the best way to cure writer's block is to inject ninjas. And, since this is a fantasy world without either of those two beings, I'm going to have to pick you guys instead. Like that one scene in _Swan Princess_ when Derek is practicing to kill the Great Animal and he has to use the musicians.

Centaur: I'm a fortune teller, not a scoundrel!

Unicorn: Could have fooled me.

Centaur: Did you just insult me? Did you _dare_…

Unicorn: Yes, I dared.

Centaur: Why, you… you…

Me: Let's try to be civil for once, okay? I know your two species have a whole blood feud going on that rivals that of the Elves and the Dwarfs, but can you just cool it slightly?

Unicorn: Elves and Dwarfs nothing. _We've_ hated each other since before they were _invented_.

Me: You do realize that posterity is going to read an account of this conversation, right?

Centaur: I trust that posterity has the wisdom and the good taste to take our side in this debate, as we are clearly superior. We, you see, have hands, which we can use to draw bows which, if I may remind my equine friend of this fact, can be used to kill unicorns.

Unicorn: Hands are overrated. _We_ have horns, which can be used to gore centaurs right where it hurts.

Me (interested): I didn't realize centaurs had that problem.

Centaur: What my four-legged friend is attempting to say is that I and my superior race have one small flaw: increased sensitivity of the skin in the section where the afore said membrane changes from equine to sapient.

Me: Wait, in American English please? Please keep in mind that I'm younger than you are and don't read the dictionary for fun.

Unicorn: He means that it hurts more in the midsection because the skin is doing weird things.

Me: Oh. Well, that's not nearly as entertaining. Can we get back to the pirates vs. ninjas, please? I don't have all day here.

Centaur: Nor do I. The heavens promise to be a delight to the eyes tonight.

Unicorn: Then why don't you get back to them and let us sort this out?

Centaur: Certainly not! I refuse to leave the fate of my species in the hands, ahem, _hooves_ of one such as _you_.

Me: Thanks!

Centaur: I was not including you in the above statement.

Me: Good. Don't forget that, in the end, _I'm_ the author, and I make the decisions.

Unicorn: We outnumber you.

Me: I don't care.

Centaur: What can you do to stop us from overwhelming you and taking charge?

Me: I can press delete. And you know what would happen if I pressed delete, don't you?

Unicorn: You wouldn't dare!

Me: Oh, but I would.

Centaur: Would you be prepared to accept the screeching that would ensue from those who share your cranium?

Me: You mean Tamara and Caroline? I'll live. Which is more than could be said for you, were I to go through with it.

Unicorn: What must we do to avoid this cruel fate?

Me: Well, you could cooperate with me, for one.

Centaur: With you, or with each other?

Me: It's not required that you cooperate with each other, though it certainly helps. It _is_ required that you cooperate with me. I have ways to torture you without pressing the dreaded delete key.

Centaur: Such as?

Me (looks at the centaur carefully): You don't _really_ need both arms, do you? I could do a lovely battle scene and cut the left one off. It wouldn't take more than five thousand words, if that, and it would be simply delightful.

Centaur: Unfortunately for you, I do have need of both arms.

Me: For doing what?

Centaur: Holding the telescope, for one.

Unicorn (scoffs): You could hold that perfectly well with only one arm.

Me (severely): And don't you start either, or I'll start explaining what I have in store for _you_.

Unicorn: I am prepared to take whatever you are willing to dish out.

Me: Are you sure?

Unicorn: I am.

Me: Don't you even want to know what it is first?

Centaur: I do!

Me: Quiet you. That right arm is looking fairly superfluous right about now.

Unicorn: By all means, then please continue talking.

Me: As for you, I was thinking that a nice shave might be in order, followed by a chase through the brambles in your newly shorn state, so that you get all nice and scratched up. And then we might stop by the dragon's cave to get warmed up. How does that sound to you?

Unicorn: Where are you going to find a dragon in the Forbidden Forest?

Me: I'm the author. If I want dragons in the forest, I can put dragons in the forest.

Centaur: She is God, in case you had not realized.

Me: You're in no position to talk. (Glares fiercely.) So, are we ready to talk logistics yet?

Centaur: I am ready.

Unicorn: As am I.

Me: Good. Now, I have two parts open: the pirates and the ninjas. Before you speak, I am going to run through the pros and cons of both, and then we will have a civilized debate, ending with my assigning parts and hopefully not dismembering anyone. Understood?

Centaur: Understood.

Unicorn: Understood.

Me: Excellent. (Consults list.) All right, first up we have the pirates. Ahem, pros: good fashion sense, use of pets, quick transportation, witty lines, good moneymaking prospects, and use of bladed weapons. Cons: large risk of loss of limbs, not always democratic governing system, unwieldy transportation in the given terrain, and necessity of cleaning up after afore mentioned pets.

Centaurs: I object to the loss of limbs. I thought we had already gone over this.

Me: I said wait to talk until I'm finished. And we can negotiate about the limbs.

Unicorn: God never negotiates. You must be an impostor.

Me: I'm not God, I'm the author. And you're an atheist anyway.

Unicorn: I have lived too long among the children of men.

Me: It hasn't done you any good. And you were suppose to be quiet too, if you recall.

Unicorn: …

Me: Good. All right, next we have the ninjas. Let's see… here we go. Pros: good fashion sense, excellent stealth, general coolness factor, use of concealed weapons, hand to hand combat. Cons: hard to miss in terrain such as ours, almost as non-cannon as the pirates, strong and rigorous system of discipline for those who do not follow orders, and, um, …, I don't think there are any more cons. So, what do you vote?

Centaur and unicorn: Ninja!

Me: You can't _both_ be ninjas.

Unicorn: Why not?

Me: Well, for one thing you'd both be on the same side, which wouldn't do at all. And, for another, this section is supposed to be the Ninja vs. _Pirates_ section, not the Ninja vs. Ninja one.

Centaur: Note that you mentioned _hand to hand_ combat for the Ninjas. As you may recall, earlier we pointed out that my white companion does not possess those necessary appendages.

Me: Still in High School, remember?

Unicorn: He was implying that we could not be ninjas because we don't have hands which, as I pointed out earlier, are overrated.

Me: You do realize that, if it weren't for hands, I wouldn't have been able to type anything, and so you wouldn't even be having this debate?

Unicorn: And are you a pirate or a ninja?

Me: No, but…

Unicorn: As I say. While hands, and more specifically fingers, may be required to write, they are in no way required to play the required parts, and so I request that they be taken out of this discussion.

Centaur: What, and do you want to take brains out too, since I seem to be the only one to have one of those too?

Me (types): "The centaur watched in horror as the scimitar sliced through the thick muscles in his right arm…"

Centaur: Forgive me, oh Great Author. In no way did I mean to insult your intelligence or in any way show disrespect towards your person. And you said you wouldn't do that.

Me: I said I would _think_ about not doing it. One of my conditions was that you get along. Which, if I may point out, you are singularly failing to do.

Unicorn: He started it.

Me: I don't care. Would you like me to pick sides for you?

Centaurs: We are capable of rationed debate. Or, at least, I am.

Unicorn: As am I.

Me: Okay. Then I'll leave you to it. You have five minutes to decide. (Leaves the room to get tea and tries not to listen to the ruckus coming from the other room. Spends a moment to start praying that they not hurt her precious computer, then remembers that she too is atheist, and, anyway, God probably doesn't care about her computer and wants to know what she thinks she's doing trying to mediate between two such hostile species.)

Me (goes back into the room): Five minutes are up. Have you reached a decision?

Unicorn and Centaur: No.

Me: Okay then. It's time for drastic measures. I'm thinking of a number between one and one hundred. The one who picks the closest to my number gets to be the ninja.

Centaur: 13

Unicorn: 65

Me: The unicorn gets it. That was exactly my number.

Centaur: I object! Unicorns have an inborn telepathic ability! He was using it to his advantage!

Me (glaring at the unicorn): Is this true?

Unicorn: And what would you say if it was?

Me: I would demand to know why I was not informed of this earlier.

Unicorn: We did not feel that you required the knowledge.

Me: I'm the author, bub. I need _all_ the information or I'll get it wrong. So, tell me about this ability of yours.

Unicorn (sulky): We can read the thoughts and emotions of other beings in close proximity to us. While we are better at telling the thoughts of our own, we are capable of reading the thoughts of any living being.

Me: And you used this to guess my number?

Unicorn: I was never told that I could not.

Me: It was implied.

Centaur: Does this mean that he's disqualified?

Me: Much as I hate to say this, it does. Sorry unicorn.

Unicorn: Objection! I demand a redo!

Me: Sorry. You had your chance and you blew it. You and yours play the part of the pirates, and the centaur and his get to be the ninjas. Point a la ligne. Now get out of here: I need to actually _write _the scene now.

Unicorn: But…

Me (glare): I _said_, get out of here. Or shall I incorporate the dragons?

Unicorn: Fine. But you'll regret this.

Me: I'm sure I will. Now leave. (Unicorn leaves the room). You too, centaur.

Centaur: It was foretold that we would win this argument.

Me(types): "The centaur stared at the stump of his…"

Centaur: Fine. But you are a wicked girl-child.

Me: You say that like I didn't already know that. Now _go_! (Centaur leaves the room.) Finally! (Starts to type, cringing at the arguments that will ensue between the ghosts and the vampires when _their_ bit finally comes around.)

* * *

_And that, my friends, is how the centaurs got to be the ninjas. –shrug- it's not _my_ fault if the unicorns cheated. Let that be a lesson to you: never try to double-cross the author. We're wilier than you think…_


End file.
